I vividly remember when Ed first started caddying. We now had two caddies who shared inside jokes and hearty laughs. During dinner one night, Lad described how a rookie caddy tried to carry a heavy bag. This kid reached for a ball or something and fell into the little lake on the course. Even though Ed was there to witness it, when Lad retold the tale Ed sprayed his milk all over the table . . . thru his nose.
The boys were so busy this summer, the course recap did not even happen daily, but when it did I tuned in. I learned not to ask questions for fear of being scolded in the 'How do you NOT know how caddying works by now, Mother?' kind of way, but to just let the tale unfold. There were hilarious golfers whose sense of humor entertained my kids. There were golfers who requested my guys regularly. My caddies had different opinions about which golfer was better at: tips, putts, jokes, earning an income, drinking, schmoozing, etc.
Reg assured me from time to time that his favorite golfer Mr. B made him laugh but that it was too inappropriate to be shared. Great to know that along with raking in good tips, my 13-year-old (Reg's age in 2019) is getting an education. Lad and Ed saw Mr. B at the course one day last week when Reg couldn't caddy.
Mr. B was told that some little scrawny kid was his caddy. He walked over to him and said, 'Oh, so you're my caddy? What's your name, Sarah?' Then on each hole Mr. B held his club up high and continued to raise it higher and higher encouraging his 'Sarah' caddy to jump for it. 'Come on, you almost had it that time!'
A few nights before the boys left for college the course honored the caddies with a caddy day. (**Note to self: we changed Lad's flight back to school for his senior year so that he could attend this event that was of course scheduled at the last minute. This is something I need to remember when he spews his recent hatred at us). The 3 older boys golfed the course during the day. Some of their favorite golfers, who support the caddy program and apparently also support the bar with multiple visits, golfed with them. The stories were endless, the laughs contagious and I didn't even understand what the Hell they were talking about.
I never dreamt Mini would stick it out as a caddy. I assumed she would barely survive the basic training, caddy for a few loops, and then beg to sleep late and accept babysitting jobs - anything not to caddy. Mini lands tons of babysitting jobs so her caddying is more limited than her brothers, but she has stuck with it and joins in the boys' banter.
|This photo of (in order from left, taken in Oct '19) Ed, Tank, Mini, Reg shows the aftermath of caddying: extreme hunger. Plus you get a look at Mini's hair, although it is more tame in her messy bun than the usual Heath-pony.|
I might have to rethink my Irish dancing book, my potty training book, my how-to-parent book geared towards the new-age clueless parent, and dive right into a mother-of-caddies memoir. The stories are endless now that we have 5 participants, not to mention Coach used to caddy alongside my brothers Pat and Mike. I grew up hearing hilarious caddy stories across the dinner table.